Defiance

I don’t want to give the impression I have all this figured out and I’m basking in the warmth of my silver lining. Nothing could be farther from the truth – we all know about the shame in my game, how every run is a battlefield. There’s so much in my heart I’m sorting out right now.

But I think I’ve stumbled upon something powerful.

I’m struck by, hung up on, and temporarily obsessed with the idea of the incredible defiance of the back of the pack runners.

You’re flawed, you’re not that good, you’re the back of the pack, and you are absolutely doing it. You’re defiant.

Maybe you’re running in an imperfect body. Maybe even a big body that doesn’t fit the norm.

“Running? Who do you think you are?!” That is the soundtrack playing on repeat in your head. You’re going against society. You’re defiant. I can feel your courage.

Maybe you’ve been blown off by your running friends. You’re cute, trying to run. Have fun with that just don’t get in their way. And you’re doing it. You’re defiant. I can feel your protest.

You hear the objections of your friends and family, even random strangers. They’re just concerned. Don’t you know you can’t. Don’t you know you’re way too much of all the things you don’t want to be, and not nearly enough of all the things you do? You’re still doing it. You’re defiant. I can feel your iron will.